


His Choice

by ChangelingRin



Category: Brother Bear (2003)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But I'm satisfied, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Gen, My imagination ran away from me, So that's all that matters, This movie lets way too much go unsaid, Which is why I'm here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 10:24:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16061150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangelingRin/pseuds/ChangelingRin
Summary: Kenai's not entirely sure how it happened – or even when, or why.  But just when he's given up on resisting, just when he thinks, 'Okay then; this is how it ends' –  just when Denahi brings his arm down for that decisive strike-Koda is there.For a moment, all Kenai can do is stare.  Koda should not be here, between his furious human brother and himself.  Koda should be far away, hating Kenai for the death of his mother.  Koda should not be on this mountaintop, endangering himself, to knock the spear away from Kenai's head.But he is.  And suddenly, Kenai is terrified.





	His Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Recently, I re-watched Brother Bear, because it's one of my very favorite Disney movies for a multitude of reasons. When I got to the Transformation/Finale scene, though, my imagination went nuts.  
> There. Is. SO. MUCH. THAT. GOES. UNSAID. There's so many emotions swirling around in that scene, so many tiny little intricacies of interaction and I just...  
> I couldn't help myself.  
> Have a oneshot, everybody.

* * *

Kenai's not entirely sure how it happened – or even when, or _why_. But just when he's given up on resisting, just when he thinks, _Okay then; this is how it ends –_ just when Denahi brings his arm down for that decisive strike-

Koda is there.

For a moment, all Kenai can do is stare.  _Koda_ should not be here, between his furious human brother and himself.  _Koda_ should be far away, hating Kenai for the death of his mother.  _Koda_ should not be on this mountaintop, endangering himself, to knock the spear away from Kenai's head.

But he is. And suddenly, Kenai is terrified.

Denahi, normally logical, is looking for a target, and in his desperation, he might not care which bear he kills. Kenai was – admittedly stupidly – somewhat ready and willing for that bear to be himself. But not Koda.

 _Not_ Koda.

He's not entirely sure how it happened – or even when, or _why_ , but-

Koda is his baby brother. And Kenai will _not_ let anything hurt him.

He staggers to his feet, panic and shock making him unsteady. He can see Koda grabbing the discarded spear from the snow and sprinting with it, see Denahi chasing after the small cub. He yells, maybe something coherent, maybe not, and _runs_ after them. He is afraid, _so very afraid_ , of what might happen.

“Leave him alone!”

He's not sure which of his brothers he's screaming at. It could be Koda, warning him not to antagonize Denahi any more because Kenai genuinely doesn't know what his older brother will do. It could be Denahi, begging him to _please don't hurt him, he's just a cub-!_ It could even be Sitka, wherever he is, pleading to stop Denahi's torment, because the only reason Denahi would even pursue a bear this long would be if Denahi believes that he is the only member of their family left.

It could be any of them. But he's not sure it matters.

Koda is panicking, and in his fear, he trips. The spear goes sliding across the mountaintop snow, and Denahi lunges for it. At the same time, Kenai launches himself forwards, having no real aim besides _get between them_. “KODA!

The tip of the spear whips around in Denahi's hands, pointed straight for Kenai's chest, and he screws his eyes shut and braces for the pain and _yells_ -

And the sky explodes.

He can see the light through his eyelids, there's so much of it. Something grips him firmly by his shoulders and _hauls_ him up, and by the time his eyes snap open, he's already several feet in the air.

He's not entirely sure what's happening.

...Is he dead? Is this what passing to the realm of the Spirits feels like?

...Did Denahi _kill_ him?

Oh Spirits, if Denahi actually managed to kill him, that was gonna tear both his brothers apart. Denahi because... well, it was obvious. And Koda, because... well, that was probably obvious too.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, Kenai _really_ hopes he isn't dead.

He reaches an unexpected peak in height, then begins to descend back down, and as he does, ribbons of dancing light swirl into existence around his body. His hind legs touch the ground, the ribbons of light wrap around his limbs, and then-

It feels like fire, only it doesn't burn. It's pure, undiluted heat, racing under his skin, _everywhere_ at once. It's not uncomfortable by any means, but the sensation is so _incredibly_ overwhelming that for a moment, Kenai loses track of who and what he is completely. He goes limp, but the ribbons of light hold him up – and then the heat dissipates, his eyes shoot open, and he reflexively draws in a gasp, because-

Because he feels _human_.

There's a choked sound, a barely uttered and disbelieving, “Kenai?” from Denahi, who Kenai is just now remembering is still there, but that is taking a backseat to the complete and utter shock he himself is feeling about the whole situation. Somewhat bewilderedly, he lifts his paw – except that it's not his paw, it's his _hand,_ his human hand, and the rest of his body feels like it matches. Quickly, he checks his other paw – except that, no, it's a hand too – and then his legs, just to be absolutely sure, but-

He's human.

It's a very good thing that shock has appeared to lock up his joints, because if that weren't the case, Kenai is pretty sure he'd be a stunned heap on the ground right now. As it is, he's barely processing; but he is at least doing better than Denahi, who hasn't actually stopped gaping since Kenai came back down from the sky. Kenai draws in a shaky breath and finds something else to look at.

Belatedly, it occurs to him that he's not actually wearing any clothes. That's a bit awkward. Also unavoidable, since bears don't wear clothes, but... well, he's not a bear anymore.

It surprises him, how much that thought stings. He hadn't expected it to.

More ribbons of light snake down from the still-bright sky, and coalesce into his oldest brother, Sitka. Despite himself, despite everything, Kenai can't help the grin that breaks onto his face at the sight. Yes, Sitka is _entirely_ responsible for the whole mess – er, Koda's mother being the (extremely regretted) exception – but for some reason Kenai is glad to see him anyway.

Denahi on the other hand just looks even more confused, exclaiming, “Sitka!?” as their Spirit brother approaches and relieves Denahi of his cloak, then gently closes Denahi's hanging jaw. He steps over to Kenai and drapes the fabric over the younger's shoulders, which Kenai grasps and closes around himself with a grateful smile. He wants – very badly, in fact – to either snatch his oldest brother in a hug, or slap him for all the angst he'd just endured, but he can't decide which one seems more appealing.

Before he can choose, though, something else catches his attention.

Small, plaintive grunts, coming from behind a rock outcropping – the kind that bear cubs make. Kenai's head darts around to find Koda watching the show, halfway behind a protective cover of stone – and looking equal parts confused and terrified.

Something in Kenai's chest drops down to his stomach like a rock, and before he quite knows what he's doing, he finds himself crossing the mountaintop – covered in wildflowers, now, when did that happen? - and crouching down a few feet from Koda's hiding place.

He can read the emotions crossing Koda's face like he can read a map, and it _hurts_ to see the small cub afraid of him. Not knowing who he is. It hurts like Kenai can't believe when Koda shies away at his approach, and Kenai  _can't stand it_ -

“Koda,” he coaxes, gentle and desperate, but he hopes Koda can't hear that. “Koda – don't be afraid.”

Can Koda even understand him, now that he's human? Spirits, _please_ let him understand.

“It's  _me,"_ Kenai says.

Koda looks at him. One second. Two. Staring at his face, searching for something, though Kenai doesn't know what. It takes moments but feels like a lifetime, before Koda suddenly charges and throws himself into Kenai's arms. Kenai catches him and can't help letting out a small laugh, fueled by relief, at the cub's antics. Koda presses himself to Kenai's chest, burying his face in the fabric of the cloak and letting out more rumblings, and in return Kenai wraps his arms around and cradles Koda as tightly as he dares.

He knows, that if Sitka hadn't interfered when he did, that there was a very good possibility that Kenai could have lost his little brother. Thinking about just how close it actually was-

Kenai's grip tightens. Koda squirms a little at the new pressure, so Kenai reluctantly pulls back after a moment and just... looks.

Koda meets his eyes, sadly, and lets out a small grunt, one that Kenai actually manages to recognize.

Before, when the only thing he'd ever been was human and his relationship with the wildlife was... tenuous, at best, Sitka had taken him and Denahi into the woods to observe a mother and her two cubs. A teaching lesson, to prepare them for dealing with one of the wild's most dangerous predators. When one of the cubs had gotten separated and started crying out, Sitka had explained that the particular noise the cub was making was a call for its caretaker, its parent. ' _Never'_ , Sitka had said sternly, _'get between a mother and her cub._ _She will have no issue going through you to reach her baby.'_

Kenai, of course, had managed to ignore that lesson rather spectacularly (and look where it has gotten him), but the point is that he remembers that sound that the cub had made.

And it was the same sound Koda is making now. T'he sound of a child looking for his family.

Kenai can't  _breathe_.

He can't hear the words within the noise anymore, but... he knows Koda well enough to be able to guess exactly what the cub is saying.

He hugs Koda again, this time with a fierce desperation that he isn't even going to try and pretend isn't there. It feels like there's a leather strap around his ribcage, winching tighter with every breath he takes. He... he's going to have to leave Koda behind. He's human, and Koda isn't, and Kenai is going to have to leave his little brother behind.

At one point, it was the only thing he wanted, but now...

He has no idea what he wants anymore.

He draws back when he remembers that it isn't just him and Koda on the mountaintop, and looks over to where Sitka stands watching. His glowing Spirit brother extends a hand, offering a small object lying on his palm. Kenai reaches out and takes it, and can't help a quick inhale when he sees what it is.

It's his totem. Which, he's pretty sure he lost at some point during the time he spent as a bear. Like, during that part where he fell off a mountain, into a rapid steam, knocked his head on a rock and washed up unconscious in the valley below. He'd considered his totem long gone.

He stares at it.

It looks so... _unassuming_ , cradled between his fingers like that. But it's the Bear of Love, and it's _his_ , by the Spirits and, now, by his own right and choice. And Sitka offering it to him like that, well, Kenai knows what this is. It's an invitation, basically, the go-ahead to take his human life back. He's learned his lesson – oh, has he _ever_ – and he can go home now.

But...

Kenai's eyes slide over to Koda, still cradled in his other arm, who sits and stares at Kenai with mixed curiosity, confusion, and resignation. And Kenai just... _can't_.

He  _can't_.

The thought of leaving Koda to go back to his old life makes him _ache_ inside. But he can't bring Koda with him; that would never work. He won't stay a cub forever, and a fully grown bear living in a human village? Impossible. Koda would never be happy like that.

And, Spirits help him, Kenai loves Koda too much to do that to him.

He lets out a heavy breath, lets his head fall. Why would Sitka do this to him? Why would he force Kenai to learn to love a world and a little brother, only to then tear him away?

...Wait.

Is... is this a choice?

Kenai shuts his eyes, thinking quickly. He goes through several pros and cons, debates with himself, reasons his way into circles.

If he goes back to his human life, the odds of him being able to interact with the world he's just spend the past several weeks learning to love are slim. He'd probably only see Koda on random hunting trips, at best, since they would have no real way to communicate, and it's very likely that Kenai will probably spend the rest of his life in one stage of grief or another for the little brother he'd had to leave behind.

But, he would have Denahi, and Denahi would have him. It's not lost on Kenai that right now, his older brother is in a rather delicate mental state. Having Kenai around would help, very much so. He would also be able to reclaim his life and his totem, and eventually be welcomed as an adult by his village. Somehow, though, that wasn't nearly as attractive a thought as it had used to be.

If he goes back to the bears, he'll have to avoid humanity. Seeing Denahi would be... difficult. It helps that Denahi knows what his bear form looks like, and Kenai is sure that, between some soft dirt and a sharp stick, they'd be able to communicate fairly well. But meetings like that would likely be few and far between, likely only happening during times of the year where the village warriors would be least likely to notice his presence and attempt to drive him off.

But, he would have Koda, and Koda would have him. Crushing, soul-wrecking guilt from the death of Koda's mother aside, Kenai has to admit that he simply isn't ready to let Koda go. Just being able to watch Koda grow up is an unexpectedly strong draw in itself. He's still so small.

A child.

Koda is a child. And Denahi is not.

Kenai knows, he _knows_ , that Denahi will need help with the aftermath of all this. But Denahi is a grown man, and has the support network of his whole village.

Koda... just has Kenai.

Kenai lifts his head, decision made. Turning to look at Sitka, he says, quietly, “He needs me.”

There's a moment of silence, where Kenai can _feel_ his words being processed by his brothers. Then Denahi says, slowly, “You know... he _did_ look better as a bear.”

Part of Kenai wants very much to make a jab at Denahi's looks in return, but most of him is just surprised. He was expecting... something, but not that. Not _acceptance._ He sees Sitka raise a brow too, but not judgingly or disapprovingly. It's _appraisingly_.

For a moment, all Kenai can do is laugh. It's a stupid thing, really, but he'd expected to meet resistance with this. Having his brothers support it instead, is-

It's incredible, that's what it is.

Still, he has to make sure. He knows what he wants – is surprised, actually, by the sheer intensity of the desire – but he also needs to know that Denahi is truly okay with this. So he calms himself down and begins, “But, Denahi-”

“It's alright, Kenai,” his big brother interrupts. Kenai recognizes the statement for what it actually is – permission – and feels the smile creep back onto his face. He carefully sets Koda down and moves to meet Denahi in the middle of the mountaintop. Denahi is smiling too; sadder than Kenai's, but genuine all the same. He carefully takes the Bear totem from Kenai's hand and loops it over his brother's head.

“No matter what you choose,” Denahi says firmly, “you'll always be my little brother.”

Kenai looks down at his totem and realizes – Denahi is offering a compromise. Regardless of what Kenai decides to do, Denahi has just promised to meet him halfway, no matter what that might take. And if Denahi is willing to do this for him, then Kenai isn't going to let him down. When Denahi raises his hand in their family's gesture of affection, Kenai wraps his own fingers around Denahi's as tight as he can without making it uncomfortable.

When those same fingers are suddenly wrapped in ribbons of light and suffused with heat, Kenai holds on as long as he can until anatomy forces him to let go. There is a moment, just briefly, where Kenai's paw and Denahi's hand rest palm to palm, and Kenai meets Denahi's gaze with a smile and a nod.

This is his choice.

Then the ribbons spread up his arm and across his body and the heat follows it, and as Kenai feels himself change Denahi lunges forward and catches him in a hug, which Kenai responds to without hesitation. He hopes, a bit, that Denahi isn't too weirded out by the feeling of his brother's body morphing under his hands. It's probably even stranger to feel it from the outside. But, Kenai has done this three times now, and is honestly feeling like a bit of an old pro at it by this point. Sure, the very first time he'd been changed, he'd briefly passed out, and yes, the second time just a few minutes ago had nearly brought him to unconsciousness again, but now he knows what to expect. And when the light and heat dissipates and leaves him towering over his brother, he just hugs tighter.

Eventually though, Denahi does break the embrace. He looks up, then blinks, and leans back in order to be able to look up more to actually find Kenai's face. He grins in baffled embarrassment and asks, “Did I say 'little'?” sounding somewhat unprepared for how tall Kenai actually is when standing on his hind legs. Kenai bursts out laughing. It's a long-running irritation of Kenai's that he's always the short one, a good six inches under Sitka and at least two under Denahi. It's also a long-running joke of Denahi's that Kenai will never catch up.

Well, who's the short one _now?_

Amidst the mirth, Sitka walks up and clamps both Kenai and Denahi into a hug, his glowing intangible form feeling surprisingly solid. Kenai savors it for the few brief moments that it lasts, because he knows it is probably the last one he will ever get with both of his human brothers. All too soon for his liking, Sitka pulls away; and despite himself, Kenai lets him. Sitka is a Spirit now, after all, and Spirits have their own duties to take care of. Kenai turns to watch his brother go, and in the process sees Koda, having what looks like a last farewell with the Spirit of his mother.

...Right. There is still a rather strong possibility that Koda hates Kenai's guts and never wants to see him again, something that Kenai actually forgot about when making his decision. But then, why did Koda come up the mountain in the first place...?

As Sitka and Koda's mother take their leave, Kenai drops down to all four paws and makes a slow approach towards his little brother. He's hopeful, but also hesitant. He wants very badly to think that Koda might not reject him again, but at the same time... he knows all too well what the death of a loved one can do to the family still living.

But then Koda sees him and shrieks, “KENAI!” at the top of his lungs and tackles the larger bear to the ground, and Kenai knows that he's been forgiven. And that's amazing, honestly, that Koda can forgive him so quickly, because Spirits know that it took a lot more than that for Kenai to accomplish the same thing. Still, Kenai won't question it. He is far too happy right now for that. Because somehow, he gets to keep both his little brother _and_ his big brother, and he honestly didn't think that was going to be able to happen.

He doesn't have to choose anymore. And honestly?

That's the best part.

**Author's Note:**

> Angst and feels, that's what this is composed of.  
> Still, I'm satisfied, and that's what matters.  
> Changeling


End file.
